


The Wonderous Adventures Of Grey Warden Alistair In A Very Odd, Foreign And Distant Land

by RHGroeninga



Series: Thedosians on Earth [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Dimension Travel, Gen, Genre Crossover, Medieval Fantasy Knight, Modern City, Multiple Crossovers, Prince Charming - Freeform, Time Travel, Universe Travel, knight in shining armor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RHGroeninga/pseuds/RHGroeninga
Summary: Alistair Theirin knew to stay away from those evil, shiny towers.Originally a fragment of an epic multi-crossover that doesn't exist, I find it entertaining enough in itself to post here :) No knowledge of any of the fandoms required, just enjoy the POV of a fearless, heroic, medieval fantasy game protagonist exploring a modern city, always carrying his sword, shield and shining armour, of course.
Series: Thedosians on Earth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698811
Kudos: 1





	The Wonderous Adventures Of Grey Warden Alistair In A Very Odd, Foreign And Distant Land

It had taken ten full days for him to reach the giant, shining towers: zero to see the greyish, glistening columns in the distance, half a day to find out they glowed brightly in the evening – like a beacon in the darkness, trying to lure in unwary travellers – six days he spend surviving in the wilderness trying to stay away from the evil, shiny towers and looking for a more ordinary settlement to safely figure out where and when he was, and then the rest of that time until this morning he was finding his way back to that grey, glowy splotch in a sea of green as he realised the scary towers probably _were_ his best chance at finding some form of civilization.

I t was even more wondrous than he imagined.

The towers up-close were just as imposing as they’d seemed far away – though there were more normal looking buildings made from wood and stone hidden in between – and they were not part of some sort of grand, magnificent fort as he’d previously thought. In fact, the gargantuan towers seemed to serve no  particular function.

Between the towers were roads made out of a smooth type of rock that looked as if it had formed that way naturally, further unpleasantly reminding him of mages and the fade. Only this road was not built for people, no serah, it was dominated by what was best described as giant, metal bugs on  small, black and metal  wheels, with yellow glowing eyes, toxic-smelling smoke coming out of their behinds and transporting people in their bellies.  He fleetingly thought of how the Sisters at the Chantry would’ve literally washed his mouth with soap and have him cleaning the waste buckets for half a year for even thinking about such fantastical, sinful things.

M eanwhile, his own shiny blue-and-silverite Grey Warden armour earned him many wide-eyed stares as he stumbled over the lanes of road destined for ordinary, two-legged people at each side of the smooth bug-road. (While still foreign, this type of road he at least understood: the people-road was made of some sort of extremely uniform rock tiles.) So buildings and wagons (they had to be some kind of wagons, that is how people seemed to use them in any case) were allowed to glisten, wearables not.  Noted and dismissed for now. Because his stomach was digesting itself and the last time he had water was yesterday afternoon from  a small creek in the forest.

I n this world of rock, glass and metal, where did people find their water? There had to be something like a well somewhere in this city, none of the locals seemed to be suffering thirst and hunger.  If only he could talk to them. They seemed to speak the same kind of nonsensical gibberish Harry and his friends had spoken before they figured out their translation charm, only Alistair was no mage, and Alistair could  _not_ fit everything he would ever need when lost in a foreign universe in a purse that could fit in his pocket.

H e entered a  small  park ( yes, he knew what a park was; so  in the end, his travels through Orlais had at least turned out to be good for  _something_ )  and lowered himself into one of the painted steel benches.  There was a pool with a fountain in the middle. The water did not look particularly clean, and there was a mother with three children on his left and two men with a similar grey costume opposite of him watching him with flabbergasted and slightly wary eyes, but perhaps he could try if it actually tasted okay.

“Are you thirsty?”

A listair looked to his right in startled surprise. Next to him stood a  dark  haired woman,  offering him an impossibly thin, transparent flask with water inside it.

I t took longer than it should have to figure out what was wrong with this scene. His hands inched towards his sword and shield as he regarded her suspiciously. “How do you know my language?”

She calmly sat down beside him; Alistair scooted a tiny bit to the left, whether to give her space or to maintain distance he was not sure.

“My name is Oradiel, I am an angel. I am a powerful creature of goodness, we were created by our god to slay demons and guide humankind through a life of love and kindness. Pure souls will be brought to Heaven after death, where they will be in bliss while we guard them for eternity.”

For Alistair, that only was a reason to become more wary. “So you’re a spirit of some sort. Is it normal for spirits around these parts to speak to mortals?”

The woman – the _angel_ , whatever that was supposed to mean – shook her head. “In the past two thousand years, angels have only descended on earth a few times. Many humans do not even believe in our existence.”

“That’s just great, isn’t it?” He knew the sneer that had appeared on his face was ugly, but at that moment he felt incapable of removing it. Honestly, accidentally travelling to another universe was confusing enough, no need for foreign spiritual mumbo-jumbo… “So why appear to me? Am I so special?”

The question was meant sarcastically, but seeing as he was a Templar-trained Grey Warden with a King for a father and a mystery mother and killer of an Archdemon from which he’d walked away unscathed because he had he’d created an Old God baby with _Morrigan_ after which he was banished from his home where he’d befriended and fought people from another _universe_ which he suspected he’d just entered and…

He could see that, objectively, he was kind of special.

“Do you deny hailing from a universe different from this one?” the angel asked sternly. Alistair sighed and shook his head.

“You do not need to fear us.” Oradiel assured him, “I was sent here to help you, to teach you the language of these lands and to relay information on its believes and its customs. We wish to teach you and we wish to learn from you the believes and customs of your homeland so we may understand how you came to be here.”

Sudden hope lifted his heart. “Can you send me back?”

The pitying look in her eyes told Alistair all he needed to know. “We do not know, for it was not us who brought you here.”


End file.
